Secret Santa
by Evie Warner
Summary: Christmas is drawing near, but Silver would rather skip the festivities. However, his plans go awry when he finds an injured Delibird - wanting to atone for his past mistakes, Silver takes it in, unwillingly immersing himself within the festive season in doing so. Slight Secondaryshipping.


**Author's Note:** Happy birthday, Silver~ And Merry Christmas to anyone reading this :D This is my first "real" attempt at writing in first-person .. so please be nice.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Pokémon, there would be a lot more canon couples. Yaoi, of course.

* * *

**Green x Silver**

xXxXx

If there was one feature of Violet City that was envied, it would have to be the tranquility, despite typically being the 'starting point' in many a young, rowdy trainer's journey. The first gym, the _easiest_ as most of them boasted. Though hard to find any trainer say that when they didn't look far ahead enough and picked a grass-type. Or maybe they did and wanted the challenge.

Whatever. Not my business to care.

Point is, every once in a while you come to understand the meaning of "there can be too much of a good thing". I'm getting a little taste of that now. Then again, I'm still debating - my vision of tranquility involves being alone. As in, far away from large crowds and people I generally don't know or particularly care for.

Oh yes, woe me, for my current situation far exceeds the limits of my comfort zone.

Here I am, in the expansive main hall of Earl Dervish's Pokémon Academy. You know, that guy who can't take two steps without doing a twirl? Turns out he finally has enough of a budget to let the students have a real festive get-together. Meaning Crystal volunteered everyone she knew to help out with decorating, which is how I got stuck with the lame job of covering cardboard stars with glitter and hanging them to the ceiling. Well, the first part is true. Weavile is the one who offered to stick them on the ceiling. Good thing, too. The paranoia of standing on a rickety chair with a small crowd of people wandering around, struggling to keep balance and see their own feet, cause you just know someone will bump into you and send you flying across the room. Then there's that big awkward silence before anyone considers you might have injured yourself.

On the positive side, that particular scenario was a no-go in regards to me. There are three other people standing on those old chairs and pinning up those crude, but colourful paper-chains along the walls. How long until someone falls? I place my bet on ten minutes, tops.

Still, as Crystal near literally drilled into my head some months ago, things could always be worse. Heh, optimism. The kicker is that I'm actually going with it. I am done with self-pity, especially at this time of year, when no one feels shame at walking around in Santa hats or fluffy Stantler head-bands.

Because it's all a "part of the festive season", as though they're justifying their excuse for immaturity. When Crystal wears those ridiculous, springy head-bands, her head automatically bobs with each word she says, making those damn things bounce around so much they're likely to hit you across the forehead when trying to speak with her. It's needlessly distracting, even without the physical abuse.

With any luck I say she'd ditched them. Hardly an appropriate or convenient accessory when trying to decorate .. or whatever she's off doing. Even Gold turned down the 'friendly request' to fix them atop his head; in his opinion, tree-decorating is "serious business" and after the minor tantrum he threw over the lack of cyan baubles, I'm inclined to trust that he holds that in high regard. Whatever keeps him busy.

A loud crash from somewhere behind me is accompanied by a loud "Silver!" spoken in a voice that is not what I want to hear right now. After that woman dragged me here and promise-bound me to not leave, safe to say she has been docked down two places on my list of favourite people.

I turn and see her half-jogging across the room. Her reflexes are creepy sometimes; no way a normal person could dodge a dozen people whilst balancing a cardboard box, which is overflowing with tinsel, generic wrapping paper, and who knows what else.

She props the box on a nearby table and smiles expectantly. Yepp, here it comes .. favour number sixty-two. "Could you please do me a huge favour?" She practically begs.

Why yes, yes I could do you a huge favour. But you see, I'm right in the middle of the last _favour_ you lured me into. For that matter, how the hell does glitter stick so easily to everything you don't want it on? Keep the poke balls away, my hands are _not_ attached to a shiny pokémon.

Back to business .. antagonizing Crystal? Not the best idea I've ever had. I'd rather not add bruises to the sparkling abomination I am gradually transforming into. Instead, I sigh. "Such as?"

Evidently, she seems pleased I didn't snap back. Hurray for her .. "Could you please wrap the presents for the little ones?" she asks. "I _would_ ask Gold but if the last time I bestowed by trust upon him is anything to go by, I'd prefer the gifts were recognizable as just that rather than something that belongs in a garbage bag."

"Hey!" Impeccable hearing, as always. "That task was performed purely out of the goodness of my heart. If you and your henchmen can't recognize quality craftsmanship when they see it, then I don't know why I bother. You're killing my artistic talents!"

You know what the sad thing is? I could have almost taken him seriously if he hadn't just emerged from a small mountain of tinsel. If he'd just looked at himself and brushed away the strand that was stuck to him would have been better.

Wishful thinking.

Crystal rolls her eyes. "The only 'talents' you possess are the ones that involve a billiard cue and a variety of coloured balls."

"Oh Crys, are you finally admitting that my unsung skills are truly talents? Because I distinctly recall just last week you claimed I was wasting my life pursuing such fruitless threads in life."

"Shut it, you," she says, and his retort claiming "this is why we can't have nice things!" goes ignored as she turns her back on him to face me.

"Please could you do this? The rest of the decorations are more or less done," she indicates to the rest of the hall, "and I'm hopeless at wrapping anything that doesn't come in a box."

And I'm awful at being creative. It must be a curse. But here's the thing, you say no to Crystal when she requests a favour and you'll never hear the end of it. "Where are they?"

"I kept them all in the back room to keep things from getting too crowded in here."

Way to late to be worrying about crowds, Crystal. Still, the back room. Maybe it's a good thing she asked me - anything to get away from .. well, this for an hour or so.

"I'll get to it, then," I say, but just as I'm turning away Crystal clamps her hand on my shoulder and spins me back around. Like she's trying to make me lose my balance and cause an accident. But no, my feet remain on the ground, and moment later Crystal shoves the cardboard box into my arms. I narrowly avoid getting thwacked with one of the rolls of paper.

"There's scissors and cello tape in the back, but if you need anything else, just gimme me a shout." She's skipping away before I have the chance to reply, her hair bouncing with each step she takes. Yepp, suddenly I'm glad she ditched the headband.

Ugh, jeez .. I think the hall became even more jam-packed during those four minutes in Crystal's presence. I don't get how she can work under these circumstances every day. And with kids in the place of adults .. maybe I should consider moving before she has the chance to, ahem, _ask_ me to volunteer more often.

Come to think of it, how did Green and Blue get out of this? Kanto's not an awful place to live. Hell, I'd brave Mt. Silver during the winter if it would provide the right kind of fortress to keep out unwanted visitors.

Then again, would that mean having Red as a roommate? Ugh .. pass. I value my sanity, thank you very much.

"Crys! Why are there only five purple stars? There's supposed to be six in a set!"

And here comes the need to walk faster.

xXxXx

Pro's, the back room is cooler, quieter, and aside from Weavile I'm in complete solitude. The perfect work environment.

Con's, in the space of an hour I've achieved little more than a stack of decently wrapped toys that oh-so conveniently don't come in boxes, and half a dozen paper cuts. Plus Gold stuck his head through the door twice to ask my opinion on which ornament should go on top of the tree: the decorative Jirachi, or a novelty Loudred.

Arceus, please say they're done out there ..

.. yeah, no luck whatsoever. In fact, I think it has gotten worse. Music is blaring for the annual parade of deaf people and those god-awful tacky decorations are covering every inch of the four walls.

It's as though everything is magnified, like someone turned up the volume and brightness settings on a television to the point of rendering you blind and deaf. The colours are too bold, the music is too loud and grating ..

.. urgh! I hate this! And I hate that I hate this so much .. and that I am lacking the ability to make sense.

Everything that happens, everyone around me feel so blatantly out of place. It's all too much, and I know it's unreasonable. Which makes it _worse_.

Screw this, I'm going home.

xXxXx

As opposed to the serene stillness of Violet City - on the outside, at least -, Goldenrod is .. hectic, you could say.

I'm kidding no one; it's the epitome of chaos during the final month of the year. You can't walk two steps without having to force your way through the shoppers who try and fail to squeeze themselves into the over-crowded shopping distracts, most of them carrying complimentary gifts stacked so high in their arms, it just isn't possible how they can see where they're going.

Tsk, that's being generous. Most of them _can't_. So add a guessing game of where to place your feet and hoping you won't be unfortunate enough to end up on a patch on, and that's a one way ticket to a sour mood that'll last for the rest of the week.

The frustration of Christmas shopping during the rush and the humiliation of a painful fall is _not_ a good combination.

As if stress needs that extra level.

I'd complain. But why bother? I've lived in Goldenrod for years now, it's either get used to it, move out, or die alone in your sad little apartment building. No one cares who they've just knocked off their feet, everyone is too set on reaching the final sale of the day to care about the potentially dead person sprawled on the pavement. It's lovely to know that people care so much.

The walk back home doesn't take long, thankfully, though it would have been shorter if Crobat had been able to fly in this weather. It's not heavy snow and that type of hail that tries to skin you alive, but ice and flying-types never mix well, and I'd like to live to see the new year.

My apartment is blissfully quiet and sparkle-free; _real_ tranquility. The couch is calling to me, so while Weavile wanders off to do whatever it is she does, I fall face-first onto the cushions. God, I'm so tired .. or is it boredom? I can never tell - when I'm bored I tend to be tired, and when I'm tired, I'm bored and the only thing I can think of is sleep.

Hardly matters, it's not like I have anything left to do or anywhere else to be. I could hibernate for the rest of the month and it wouldn't inconvenience anyone. Quite the opposite, in fact. Sign me up to avoid this abysmal season. Gold and Crystal are so wrapped up in their own disco-ball of happiness I feel I should stick a bow on it.

Yes, this is me and my opinions on the Christmas, that _wonderful_ time of year when people express their love and gratitude for one another by maxing out their credit cards to shower others in gifts. That's the official description; I prefer to call it the "guilt season". The one way of retaining contact with distant friends of the family by sending them cards. People you've never met. Why bother? If you couldn't care enough to speak to me all year, then why acknowledge my existence at all?

Perhaps I _should_ consider seeking residence on Mt. Silver. If I'm going to be such a grump, then I'm doing it in style. Watch out Kanto, the Grinch is on the prowl. Bah-humbug and all that -

.. no, wait. I'm about ninety-percent sure those are two separate films. Ugh, way to contradict yourself in five seconds, Silver. Do the damn research before you try to prove your point via a rant.

.. on second thought, forget that. If I can't even get this right, then why put the effort into doing it at all? I'm not sticking around this time. Pack your bags, Weavile, we're going on a winter vacation.

xXxXx

Mahogany Town, welcome to the home of the ninja! Psh, liars. Unless by 'ninja' they mean Articuno, then yes that would be an accurate motto. Last time I checked, Articuno had wings. Not a convenient accessory when out .. ninja-ing. Hey, I never claimed to be good on improvisation.

But seriously, when crossing down Route 42 in the middle of December you'd think you'd invoked the wrath of ice-types everywhere upon your soul. Weavile even seems wary .. perhaps I should have reconsidered my plan of action?

No, stop it, Silver. You are _not_ backing down now and trudging back to Goldenrod like a wimp. I can't deal with it this time, not when Crystal has joined in trying to bring me into the festivities. Yeah, like running away makes me any less of a wimp. Whatever, if I've chosen to run away, then I'm sticking it through. She can yell at me all she wants come the new year. For now, time to meet my temporary home away from home.

In Mahogany Town. Home of the ninjas.

Gold would have a hell of time coming up with lame puns and jokes.

Okay, time to branch away from angsting over my aversion to anything winter-related. Which isn't strictly true. The cold never really bothered me that much; I spent a lot of time training in the Ice Path with Weavile during her pre-evolution years. It was "get used to it" or "get a Growlithe" and I was filled to the brim with childish pride so giving up was far from being an option. Well, there are some skills that translate in the wild; look on the bright side, I'm close enough to see Mahogany Town through the thick flurry.

I'm running, somehow managing to not slip and end up on my butt. Avoiding potential humiliation .. this is turning out to be an alright day. The snow is deep, though, almost up to my knees and rapidly soaking through my trousers. Ugh, I should have run off to Hoenn instead. Yes, I'm used to the cold, but like I said, there can always be too much of one thing.

It doesn't matter now, though. The Pokémon Centre is right there, and when I step instead it's sinfully warm. I could melt and create a horrible mess on the floor, and be happy that I died warm. Weavile lingers outside, probably to make a snowman. Or an angel. Whatever keeps her happy.

"Oh, hello," the Nurse Joy at the counter greets as I walk up to her, shaking snow from my jacket. A nearby Chansey immediately mops it up, singing happily to herself. "How may I help you?" she sounds surprised. On closer inspection, the main entrance of the Pokémon Centre is pretty much empty. I'm guessing Mahogany Town isn't a vacation hot-spot at this time of year. We'll soon find out.

"I need a room," I say, bluntly and straight to the point.

Her eyes widen slightly, then she smiles kindly. "Yes, of course." Her eyes divert to the computer screen on the desk, and she taps away at a few keys. "Is it just you?" she inquires, and I nod. "Well, we have more than enough room here to accommodate your needs, or if you'd prefer there are cabins for rent at the Lake of Rage."

Oh, options. Goodie. I could stay in this building and exploit free pickings on room service, or go into complete solitude half a mile away from here next to a frozen lake. Location, location, location ..

"Why is it so empty here?" I ask; if I'm considering staying then I'd definitely prefer not to wake up and find I can barely fit through the crowds to get out the door.

"Oh, it's uncommon to get people staying here through the winter season, especially around Christmas," she says. She probably expected to be asked. "Since this is such a small town, most residents prefer to stay with family outside of here, and because Mahogany Town is known for being struck with heavy snow, once a storm hits it's very dangerous and nearly impossible to travel in or out of the town, so most tend to avoid the possibility of becoming marooned here."

Makes sense. If you're going to spend time anywhere, it would nice to have the option to leave. "So how many people are staying here?"

"Just one other, aside from Chansey and myself."

And I'm guessing it's unlikely there will be anyone else signing up to stay. "Then I'll stay here. I think it would be a better alternative to staying half a mile up north."

"Yes, most people say that. Though it can be quite lovely up at the Lake of Rage this time of year, especially when it isn't snowing so heavily."

I'll add that to the list of things to do. No point in lazing around in one room for the entire stay. I'm officially registered to stay, paying by the day as opposed to booking a room for two weeks; should this town become unbearable in the coming few days, it would be nice to be able to leave without the lingering though of paying for a room I won't be using.

And the room itself is cozy. Not the generic wooden bed with white sheets, a closet with a few hangers inside, ya-da-ya-da; it definitely contains more of a personal touch, though it isn't hard to imagine the rest of the rooms are set up in a similar way. Doesn't matter; it has the basics, and then some.

Good enough for me.

xXxXx

Ice Path, known for it's complex design and natural-built challenges that vary in size and difficulty. Also the place in which I trained during the better part of my childhood. It really is kind of nostalgic returning here, most of the caves are similar enough so that I can find my way through without becoming hopelessly lost in five minutes, yet altered to keep that challenge. It's nice, and I can already see myself spending a lot of time here in the next few weeks.

It's been three days and I've exhausted almost every option I have for entertainment. Mahogany Town's population is low and activities rank just as high; my choices for today were stay inside and try to sleep late, attend the town's festival, or leave and seek new opportunities.

Definitely time to take advantage of the free time that I have. Training is a good way to pass time, and my Pokémon and I benefit from it. Win-win.

Weavile is scaling the wall to perfect her Icy Wind from an unstable surface, and Feraligatr is tearing apart boulders with Slash. And me .. I'm observing. What is there I can do besides practicing my ice-skating? Psh, yeah that could actually have some merit next time Crystal drags Gold and I into something like that. The look on her face when I fail to fall -

...

.. that didn't sound good. Something rumbled up the walls, and .. now there is dust falling from the roof of the cavern .. and Feraligatr is just charging to strike the split boulder one more time .. the one that's supporting a lot of weight ..

My eyes widen. Holy _fuck!_

But the words don't have a chance to leave my mouth.

Feraligatr's paw hits. The boulder shatters. And the wall is _crumbling in_ ..

Oh, shit!

Chunks of stone, gobbets of ice, a torrent of dust - it all comes crashing down in a tidal wave of dirt, shards of ice chip the skin on my hands as I quickly shield my face from the onslaught, dust clouds my vision and forces moisture to slip down my cheeks as an ample ammount of particles scratch roughly at my eyes. I breathe in on instinct and immediately know it was a mistake; my lungs heave and sizzle with the friction from the rough dust I unwittingly inhaled. I cough violently, spluttering as I try to rid my body of the foul substance, but with every new breath I inhale, new dirt replaces what I spit out.

It's dry and rough, like I'm trying to swallow sandpaper and my stomach keeps forcing it back up, rejecting it entirely.

Bad idea .. horrible idea!

I grasp at my belt and snatch Crobat's Poké ball. I throw it, and the back of my eyelids light up for a moment as Crobat materializes.

"G - gust .. !" I splutter, forcing myself to shout but refusing to move my hands from covering my mouth. No freakin' way am I choking to death on a dust cloud in the middle of the Ice Path.

Then there's wind, a strong breeze battling against the lingering cloud of dust and ice, and when I can't hold my breath anymore I breathe in .. fresh, clean oxygen replenishes my lungs. I gulp it down, caring not for the occasional cough that escapes me, my body trying to get rid of every last particle of dirt.

Oh god .. definitely a bad idea. I'll make a mental memo: don't abuse the support beams, especially when inside a cave.

I open my eyes, wiping the moisture from my cheeks and blinking rapidly to restore my vision. Yepp, there's the proof of my wonderful choice of action, an enormous pile of rubble surrounded by settling dust. Feraligatr is shaking himself clean of grime, and I think Weavile is somewhere behind me .. yeah, I can see her. She looks a bit disoriented, but overall fine. She shakes her head free of dust, then brushes herself down.

Right, safe to say I've learned my valuable lesson of the day - don't attack the support holding up the caves. Suddenly spending the rest of the month lazing around in a hotel room doesn't seem nearly as unappealing as it did ten minutes ago. Time to get of here before I manage to bring the whole thing down.

As I recall Feraligatr, Weavile walks over to me, sharing my thoughts it would seem. Feels so much better not to have to argue on thi -

...

.. what is that? It's a .. crooning, I guess .. ? No, a little more like _chirping?_ Quiet, muffled, and somewhat distant.

Whatever's making that sound, it's definitely something alive.

Crobat picks up on my thoughts, and I stay as quiet as I can while he scans the area. I couldn't even hope to have senses as potent as a Snorlax, let alone any other Pokémon I can name.

He gradually flies forward and I'm not hesitating to follow, Weavile refusing to put much of a distance between us. He soon stops, hovering above a gathering of rocks, large and small. And there is definitely something inside.

Weavile does what she can in helping me shift the rocks without causing the situation to worsen. I should call out Feraligatr, but with one last shove on a larger rock causing it to roll aside, I get a clear view of what lies within the encasing of granite.

My eyes widen.

The little medical knowledge I possess may not be of much help right now, but anyone who cares to look would know that a wing should _not_ be bending that way, nor do they have joints in the middle to justify the sharp dent in a way that doesn't scream _injury_.

The Delibird wiggles pitifully on it's back, it's feet trying to reconnect with the ground but halted as the rocks refuse to release it's trapped pouch. It whimpers in poorly concealed pain as it's wing shifts and jerks at odd angles.

I'm far from the most compassionate person anyone will ever meet in a lifetime, yet I feel my heart bleed at the pathetic sight.

It's strange to feel this way. How many Pokémon have I seen hurt? A sizeable percentage would amount to the total I've personally hurt.

I cringe at those memories. I recall one when a Pidgey lay broken and beaten in the middle of Viridian Forest, no less than five minutes after Sneasel had snatched away it's eggs; it's unborn children. The Pidgey had just wanted it's soon-to-be-hatched family back and paid a potentially fatal price. Did the Pidgey die? I don't know if I want the answer. One moment the Pidgey was frantically flapping it's undamaged wing, the next I was walking away.

_Weak_, had been the word on my mind. _Pathetic_, was my declaration of the broken bird-Pokémon. It was so _easy_ to walk away and discard all concern for it. Whereas now .. ?

A pained whimper passes the Delibird's beck as it weakly attempts to tug its tail free. It closes its eyes, acknowledging failure, and a few tears dribble down the white feathers covering it's cheeks.

xXxXx

The Pokémon Centre is as warm as I recall, but the plastic chairs in the waiting room leave much to be desired. I think my butt has gone to sleep, but when I see Nurse Joy enter through the door, I automatically stand up straight.

"How it is?" I'm not going to get used to this feeling of concern, especially in regards to a Pokémon I just encountered on a pure coincidence. No doubt guilt is playing it's part in keeping me from leaving.

"It's a nasty break but nothing I haven't dealt with before," she sounds optimistic but her smile isn't reaching her eyes. "Delibird is asleep right now and with the right medicine and enough rest it should be as good as new in a few weeks."

Did I really just sigh in relief? Geez Silver, since when are you so concerned over a Delibird? Oh! That's right .. since you were capable of feeling the smallest shred of guilt.

"So it will be fine?"

She nods. "Oh yes, these kinds of injuries are common enough around here. Not so much with Delibird, but many trainers are brought down by their over-confidence and recklessness and ignore the warnings not to have their flying-Pokémon risk the storms."

I'm not convinced. She's hiding something; she's _pitying_ the Delibird as though it had only a month to live after certain recovery. "But .. ?" I ask, and she looks at me, confused. "You're acting like it's going to die, regardless of how perfect it's physical condition will be."

She stares at me .. studying me, perhaps? Maybe I should start paying attention to the kinds of stares people direct at me and try to categorize them. Usually I class any casual glance in my direction as "judgment", mentally curse them to the fiery pits of Mt. Ember, and go on my way. So unless she thinks I hurt the damn bird on purpose I'm doubting that's a judgmental sheen in her eyes.

"Have you heard of the annual gift-giving ceremonies we hold in Mahogany Town?" she asks, and since I don't, I shake my head. "Well, as I informed you on your first day here, this town is notorious for receiving the brunt of some rather violent storms in winter."

Wherever this is heading, I'm not sure, but I nod again to urge her on.

"While it's common for some to leave town and stay with friends or relatives during this time, most residents prefer to remain here for the Christmas season, and some stay because they can't leave for one reason or another. The point is, travelling back and forth is a very tedious challenge, and almost no one wants to do it. Very few vehicles can get through the snow once it begins to land, which leaves only the option to walk, as the skies are equally dangerous. Because travelling is very rarely an option to consider, it had made the subject of delivering gifts and such a big problem. There is simply no way to move such an amount of postage out of, or in to town."

Huh .. I think I might know where she's going with this.

"As you must know, the Ice Path is very well known for its population of Delibird; an ice and flying-type Pokémon, which gives it an advantage in this weather, and generally leaves them as the only Pokémon that go through the journey safely. Since they're well known for delivering gifts, many captured Delibird for the sake of doing just that. Eventually this all reached the point where it has become an annual event: every year a winter festival is held in the town's centre where people bring the gifts they wish to have delivered, and the Delibird fly down from the Ice Path in order to deliver them."

Air mail .. go figure. "Sounds .. convenient."

She nods. "Oh yes, you'd be surprised at how much our small town has grown dependent on events such as these. But the problem is .. well, the Delibird very much enjoy the job - after all, why else would they be so willing to partake? And since this one has a broken wing that won't heal for weeks .. "

"It won't be able to take part," I finish her sentence for her, and she looks down.

"Flying-type Pokémon are very dependent on their ability to travel through the air, and Delibird especially aren't very versatile on their feet. The break in its wing wasn't horrendous, but for a while at the very least, it is going to be a difficult time for Delibird while it recovers. I'd say it could be months before it is ready to fly with extra weight."

Okay. _Now_ I get her depression thing, and it suddenly feels so _obvious_. Delibird's situation .. it's like me breaking my legs and being wheelchair bound for who knows how long. And with the lingering possibility that I might never leave said chair.

"That's .. horrible." I immediately wince at how that sounds, but what I don't know what else I can say.

But she seems to agree. "It's a terrible tragedy for a flying-type Pokémon to lose function of it's wings .. at this point there isn't much more to do but wait and hope for the best."

The waiting game .. oh, joy.

The door opens again, this time a Chansey walks out pushing a stretcher. On the stretcher is Delibird, unconscious, as Nurse Joy claimed. It's wing has been straightened out and put in a splint, then wrapped in bandages. Even in sleep, Delibird looks so miserable. I guess that happens when you go to sleep already knowledgeable about the bad news.

Chansey wheels the stretcher down the otherwise empty hallway, soon she and Delibird disappear around the corner.

"What _can_ you do?" I find myself asking. Again, this is weird. I'm _concerned_ for a wild Pokémon I've known for all of half an hour.

Nurse Joy shrugs, pulling her own gaze from the end of the hallway Chansey vanished from. "Be certain that Delibird gets enough rest and manages to regain its strength; that's it, really. If it strains itself too much then chances of a full recovery will be jeopardized more than they are now."

Next-to-nothing. Huh .. suddenly I'm regretting ever coming here. Oh jeez, here it comes, the whole "it's all my fault, I should never have come here" melodramatic crap that should stay in those god-awful romantic comedies and perish there.

"Nothing else?" I ask for good measure - now would be the time in a movie where she mentions "well, there is one more thing but chances of success are nigh impossible" only to find that hey, it turns out I am the only one capable of successfully pulling it off without negative consequences, which leads directly to a recovery montage, then the type of ending where everybody laughs.

Okay, I'm making a mental note here: no more movie nights with Gold. Especially since - surprise, surprise - Nurse Joy shakes her head in the negative.

"I'm afraid not. If there was then you can be sure that I would do it, but there simply isn't."

"So .. when is it going to wake up?"

"In a few hours, or morning at the very most."

xXxXx

When morning drifts by, I find myself standing beside the hospital bed that holds the sleeping Delibird, whose look of misery hasn't faded. No one should look that depressed when they're asleep, it's those precious hours when reality doesn't exist and your worries are on hold .. heh, look at me getting all deep and emotional. I may even shed a tear ..

I'm kidding, of course. I haven't cried since .. well, let's say it was a long time ago. A _very_ long time ago.

It's not even important - never will be. Besides, Delibird is waking up. I think .. the drugs probably haven't worn off entirely yet, but the little guy is fighting against them. It shifts as much as it can, eyelids flickering and face scrunching up in mild discomfort. Dreams apparently don't mean much to Delibird if it doesn't want to stay with them. That, or they're bad dreams - then it's no wonder it would want to ditch them.

I'm staying. Why am I staying? Do I feel that guilty, that responsible for what happened?

.. well, yeah. If I hadn't been in the Ice Path then the wall would likely still be standing and there would be a distinct absence of injured Delibird. But still, it's not like I deliberately set Feraligatr on the poor thing - otherwise I would likely feel awful.

Wait, the "poor thing"? Jeez, Silver, this sense of compassion you're developing is not in-character for you.

The Delibird croons, and I look back at it; it's eyes are slightly open and appear glazed over beneath the lids, whilst its beak twitches subtly, struggling to form coherent sound through the sleep-induced haze.

Well, it's awake. Mostly. Now what? I don't know if I should call Nurse Joy and have her perform a physical scan on its wing or wait until I know it's conscious enough to know it isn't in the Ice Path anymore. She didn't say to call her if it woke up; really, she just agreed to let me see it.

Delibird tries to blink, but once closed its eyes refuse to open again. It's face scrunches up further and it moves it's wings; trying to sit up from the look of it.

Weavile's having none of it; she hops over from where she sat on the window ledge, leans over Delibird and gently pushes it back to lie down, murmuring reassurances as she does. The Delibird doesn't look pleased - in fact, it looks distressed. Whether Weavile told it what happened or not, it certainly isn't happy about something. It tries to sit up and trills weakly in protest, maneuvering it's unbroken wing to try and nudge Weavile away. It even tries the same with its other wing, waving it around in its splint, but the realisation that said wing it bandaged up is predictably doing little good.

Delibird _panics!_ It waves it's stubby yellow feet around as wildly as can be, using its wings to feebly bat away the claw against its chest, holding it down against the bed. It squaks, it cries, it fights against the unrelenting grip .. and why am I not intervening?

But it doesn't matter - the door opens behind me, and I automatically spin round to see Chansey bustling. Her expression is one of concern, and she ignores me completely to attend to the distressed bird. She says something in her Poké-language and Weavile steps away from Delibird, which refuses to cease its struggles.

I can't see what's happening as Chansey steps close to the bed, but as the cries begin to subdue, no doubt it's working.

Wait, should I be concerned? I doubt it's any kind of sedative considering the last dose just wore off, but I've never been an expert on medical practice or the biology of Chansey. That Pokédex the professor gave me .. I should consider using it once in a while.

Chansey soon turns around to face me, chanting her name in a way that I'm going to assume means "I need space to work" or something along those lines. Since Weavile jumps down from the bed and is walking over to the door, safe to say my guess is accurate enough.

When I leave the room, Chansey closes the door behind me. I can still see through the small window, though. She's bustling around the room doing something or other that amounts to work, but like I said, I know very little about the medical world.

But I can determine that Delibird's eyes are closed again, and it's expression is as unhappy as it was pre-wake up. Worse, in fact.

"'viile?"

I look down at Weavile, who is standing at my side. She looks as concerned as I feel. Right, _she's_ the more compassionate one, whereas this is all new to me. Great, I'm emotional over a Delibird, of all things. And I am pretty sure anyone would tell me I sound like an unbelievable prat.

"_Have a heart, Silver!_" Well, guess what: if you knew me at all, you'd never have expected such miracles from me.

Pokémon Centre's are _not_ good for me .. so I am going to take this as a sign and retire for the .. well, morning. Last night's attempt to sleep left much to be desired.

xXxXx

Attempt number two was .. better, if I'm being generous. An afternoon nap proved futile, but thankfully by the time night rolled by I was tired enough to sleep until three a.m. according to the clock on the wall. After almost an hour of trying to get comfortable and calm enough to drift off again, I gave up and got out of bed. Weavile, on the other hand, has no such troubles. She's smiling - see, that's the look of a content dreamer, how someone should look when they're asleep. Well, maybe not the whole smiling thing, but you get my point.

While she enjoys her REM cycle, I'm getting up and out of here. Since it's more or less just Nurse Joy and I staying here, the cafeteria hasn't been opened so if either of us want to eat then we get it from the small resturant a little distance away. That or from the vending machines in the main lobby. And I'm starving. There's a point; have I eaten at all today?

Eh, whatever. I close the door quietly, though I doubt having an angry Loudred as Weavile's roommate would be enough to wake her. I might try that theory someday. Yes, this is my life.

It doesn't matter if it's a Pokémon Centre or your own home, any building is creepy at night. Some of the lights are on, just enough to light up the hallways, but the main entrance is illuminated only by the bulbs inside the vending machines. My destination awaits.

A few coins inserted and some buttons pressed, then I have a handful of candy bars and packets of chips. Hardly fine cuisine but I'll take what there is - plus it'll put Weavile in a good mood to wake up to some sugary treats. But I'm barely at the bottom of the stairs when I hear a crash.

I pause in mid-step and look around. It wasn't a loud noise, muffled enough to suggest it was in another room at least. I frown; either Nurse Joy or Chansey knocked something over, or someone might be trying to break into the building. Pokémon Centre's are often a target of robberies with all the Poké balls being "easy pickings", but any moron with an 'R' on his chest would know this place has about as much life in it as what remains of the organization they work for.

I can hear it again, but less of a crash and more of a thump .. if those details really matter. And now it sounds like .. skittering? As though something - likely with claws - is running across the linoleum flooring. With mixed results ..

On the off-chance someone really is idiotic enough to rob an empty Pokémon Centre, I'm checking it out. My jacket pockets are just big enough to cram the candy bars in and I already have Gengar's Poké ball in hand. I step lightly enough so that my shoes don't squeak against the flooring, and the noise is getting steadily louder as I strain my ears to locate the source.

I wonder what I look like on the security cameras right now. Unless these morons were smart enough to shut them off before smashing open a window, or whatever their method of breaking in involved. Tsh, unlikely ..

.. wait a second .. I'm staring at the door I am now certain the noise is coming from behind .. and I distinctly remember being in there yesterday ..

Stealth be damned, I open the door. The bed is empty, but the sheets are newly creased .. and the patient is trying to squeeze itself out the partially opened window. And has wedged itself stuck halfway, it would seem.

Well, I'd say I've identified the source of the early morning scuffle. "What the hell are you doing?" I ask, but the struggles of the Delibird don't cease. I walk over to it. "I don't think this is what Nurse Joy meant when she said you need to rest."

And still, the damn bird doesn't quit. It's head and shoulders are out the window, whilst it's entire lower half is firmly stuck inside. It's broken wing is still in a splint and it seems to be trying to use it as little as it possibly can in it's now botched escape attempt.

"Look, do you want to hinder the already poor chances you have at flying ever again?" I snap, and like I've gained ice powers of my own, Delibird freezes entirely, it's dark eyes widened to a degree that can't be natural.

Well, it worked, didn't it? Step two; free the bird, seems the obvious choice. The window isn't locked in its position, so if I can yank it hard enough it should open right up. I place my hands on it and try to slowly ease it up - I don't want to accidently add a broken spine to Delibird's list of injuries.

Curse these windows to the pits of Mt. Ember .. who designed them like this?! Delibird isn't struggling anymore, so I can count that as a positive. As long as it's still alive, that is .. yepp, it's breathing.

Miraculously, the window is slowly coming unstuck. Just a little more .. I yank it upwards and with a uneasy clutter the window is open!

.. and the Delibird is making a break for it. Unfortunately for it, I anticipated this. It doesn't get far before I grab it by the sides and lift it back in. And as though fate predicted this and is aiding me for once, the window slips and slams shut. Unless Delibird wants shards of glass embedded in its body I wouldn't say there's much of a threat of escape anymore. Doesn't stop it from continuing to struggle, though. And trying to peck my recently healed hands.

"Would you stop that?" I snap, holding Delibird at arms-length. "Do you hate hospitals or do you have a death wish? Those are the only options I can think of, so pray tell me your answer."

Predictably, it doesn't. Now it's shrieking. Great, now _I'll_ get the blame from Nurse Joy for disturbing her patients.

"Stop that! If you keep struggling and crying, then I'll be surprised if Nurse Joy ever lets you out of here!" I know I shouldn't be shouting, if anything I'm making this worse, but I have a point, don't I? Delibird obviously wants to get out of here as soon as humanely possible, and shrieking loud enough to wake the whole town is _not_ the way to convince anyone you're in perfect health.

My lapse in controlling the volume of my voice seems to have worked, though. The Delibird is still stubbornly trying to wriggle free but not to frantic level had been before, and nor was it yelling at the top of its lungs.

I stay quiet for a minute .. but I don't hear approaching footsteps. I sigh in relief. "Alright," I say, slowly and quietly, "why are you so distressed about being here?"

Not the best choice of words since I don't have much hope of understanding Delibird, but if it mimes then I can give guessing a try. It's doing just that now, to the best of its ability considering it can barely move one of its wings, but it gets credit for trying.

It's flapping it's wings, so .. "You were flying?" I ask, and it nods, then reaches back to grasp its tail-pouch thing .. then jabs it's uninjured wing into its stomach and pulls a face that I'm supposing means it fainted.

.. I'm lost, here. Going by the look on Delibird's face it would seem it knows my confusion. It's wings slump to its sides, dejection tinging it's expression.

I sigh. "Sorry, but .. I don't know what you're trying to say." It looks down at the floor, it's expression unchanging. "Look, if I put you down will you promise me you won't try to run for it?"

It doesn't look happy, but it nods. When I place it back down on the bed, it doesn't try to scramble away. It looks like the epitome of depressed, slumped posture and an expression so pitiful .. and pity is not a good emotion for me to feel.

Moving on, I'm dealing with a very depressed bird that keeps trying to make a break for it. I take out a candy bar from my pocket and hold it out to Delibird. "Here," I say; it looks at my hand for a moment, then up at me. "Chocolate apparently has mood-elevating effects; it might make you feel better."

It looks wary, eyeing the candy bar with cautiousness - distaste, even. I open the wrapper, break a piece off, and offer it to Delibird.

"I promise I haven't poisoned it."

It hesitates for a moment, but eventually reaches out to pick it up. It holds it as carefully as it can manage and sniffs at it. I'm going to believe it trusts my judgment right now, as it breaks off a tiny piece with its beak. When it swallows, it takes another small bite. Then another, and another .. and a minute later Delibird is eyeing the rest of the candy bar.

Delibird are allowed to eat chocolate, right? It doesn't look ill, it actually looks a little better now it's got something in its stomach. Well, if Nurse Joy gets mad at least it'll be over something I wasn't falsely accused of. I nudge the candy bar towards it and Delibird wastes no time in snarfing it down.

Look at that, I've made a friend. Through bribery. Gold would be proud.

Not long later, the only evidence the chocolate ever existed is the torn wrapper Delibird offers back to me. Charming. I take it and stuff it back in my pocket. "Thank you," I remark dryly. Delibird smiles at me. "Unless you feel like throw up everything inside you, please don't tell anyone I smuggled chocolate in here. I don't care what you might have to say; I believe Nurse Joy and her Chansey are capable of murder."

Delibird just looks baffled for a moment, then cups it's unbroken wing over its mouth and _smirks?_

Oh, good. I wonder if this is in the Pokédex: _Delibird; the ice and flying-type. Delibird take advantage of the generosity of strangers and snatch onto good blackmail material at any given opportunity_.

"I'm serious," I say, but it continues to smirk. It's shoulder start to shake .. is it _laughing?_

It fell onto it's back and is definitely making an attempt to muffle any sounds it might make .. I'm feeling a distinct sense of familiarity.

Let me guess; Gold has perfected his "life-long dream of replicating a Ditto". Please, no ..

xXxXx

"It may be a bit touch-and-go, but Delibird has made an excellent recovery. He's free to leave as long as he can take it easy for a few days until the splint can be taken off, but with the festival I doubt that will be happening. The local flock can be quite persistent in their duties," Nurse Joy says, eyeing the Delibird, who gazes innocently between her and myself.

"In other words, he can't leave because you and I both know he won't rest?" I say, and she nods.

"Unfortunately."

Sucks to be Delibird. It must share the same thoughts as it looks quite crestfallen, remarkably like Togepi who just got it's lollipop stolen. And I do mean, you know, _normal_ Togepi, not the brash, gambling addicts who don't think twice about charging at a fully grown Tyranitar like a Munchlax in a sweet shop.

"Does it have a chance at flying again?" I ask, simply cause I have to know. As does Delibird, who perks up at the question. But one look at Nurse Joy's face and I can feel that sinking in my chest.

"It's hard to say at this point. Broken wings are a delicate appendage to deal with; all I can suggest is enough rest and to take it slow in re-learning and to hope for the best."

Delibird looks down at the floor, idly touching the bandages on its wing. I wonder how it feels about being discussed like a specimen that isn't even in the room. Frustrated would be the obvious answer.

"How is it meant to re-learn?" Though I'm assuming it's not unlike someone going through physical therapy to re-learn how to walk.

"Well, Delibird would have to wait for the break to heal completely, which won't take nearly as long to heal as a broken arm would for a human, but the process is not something to be taken lightly. He would need to regain his strength and exercise his wing for several weeks before attempting to fly again .. it can be quite a strenuous time."

Sounds about the same, minus the time difference. "Can you help it?"

"Of course I can, although that all depends on whether or not Delibird will let me help him. He certainly doesn't seem to enjoy being here, as I'm sure you can tell."

Really? I hadn't noticed. "And if it doesn't .. ?" Not that it takes a genius to guess.

"Then there is very little I can do to help. I can't force Delibird to stay here for treatment, after all."

When I look back at Delibird, it's already staring back at me. It looks .. hopeful, it's eyes a little wider but to a natural and much less shocked degree. Ever so slightly, it tilts it's head, _pleading_ silently .. oh jeez ..

"Though I must say it seems to have taken a liking to you." I'm not the only one who noticed, it would seem. I look at Nurse Joy, who is also ready to meet my gaze. "For the past few days it's been much calmer whenever you visit it. That's a very good sign."

Words are failing me, and I can only blink. She's not going to suggest what I think she is .. is she?

"I'd say Delibird would benefit if you were around to help it recover."

.. yes, she went there.

"I can't." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I don't know how to help it, and besides, I just .. _can't_." Real persuasive, Silver. I'm inwardly cringing at my choice of words.

Say I'm looking too much into it, but Nurse Joy certainly looks like she was expecting that answer. "Why is that?" she asks, as kindly and casually as ever.

"Because .. " I don't want to - would be the words I'd have voiced if I'd been caught up in this situation a few years ago. Which is unlikely to have progressed to this point, considering my choice of action would have been to ditch the Delibird back in the Ice Path and dismiss it as "pathetic", if I'd even gone to investigate the noise in the first place.

Again, unlikely.

Nurse Joy is smiling now. "You told me that you were planning to remain in Mahogany Town for a few more days at the very least, and there isn't all that much to do around here in the final weeks building up to Christmas, so it wouldn't be much of an inconvenience to stay around and encourage Delibird to respond to the therapy."

She's making a decent argument. I'm beginning to miss the days when I could flat-out say "no" and walk away without a second thought. Damn Crystal and her insistence on making my year's resolution to "be nicer, or at least tolerant of strangers".

I really shouldn't have looked away from her so forcefully, because now I'm staring back at Delibird, who has yet to look away or erase that hopeful look from its eyes.

I think my resolve is slipping ..

"I won't and can't force you to agree, but I think you might be the best chance Delibird has at a full recovery. It has been proven that Pokémon respond best to treatment when encouraged by someone they care for and trust, just as a human would."

Delibird croons softly, and I can feel my shoulders slump in defeat.

" .. alright, then."

It's official: small towns are bad for my health.

xXxXx

* * *

**Author's Note:** If you know me at all, then you'd have expected this .. y'know, no actual romance until the chance to actually build up to it xD Soon, though~

Part Two shall be up sometime in the space between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve. That time when no one knows who they are, or what they're doing.

Until then, Merry Christmas to all~


End file.
